


what it looks like

by helsinkibaby



Category: FBI (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Het, Romance, Secret Relationship, Stuart finds out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23133346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: Stuart gets a surprise
Relationships: Kristen Chazal/Jubal Valentine
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	what it looks like

**Author's Note:**

> Theme : free for all  
> Prompt : Any, any, sometimes things are exactly what they look like.  
> https://comment-fic.livejournal.com/1083000.html?thread=114085752#t114085752

Stuart is not going to lie, there are quite a few things he’d rather be doing on his Saturday afternoon off than going to his niece’s ballet recital. However, he’s the kid’s godfather, a fact his sister had not so gently reminded him of, right before she’d had his niece send him a video message on WhatsApp pleading with him to come. 

He might be a curmudgeon sometimes but he’s not a monster. 

So despite the fact that his niece is no Ginger Rogers, has in fact inherited Stuart’s sense of rhythm or lack thereof, he makes his way across the city and finds the studio where the recital is taking place. 

But of course because he’s a good uncle, he doesn’t want to run the risk of being late so consequently, he’s a good half hour early. He’s muttering every curse under the sun, is frankly making up a few new ones when he turns around and sees, like a mirage in the desert, a coffee shop across the street. 

The age of miracles, he decides, is not yet dead. 

He jogs across the street, thankfully devoid of vehicles, another miracle, and walks through the door, a bell jingling as he pushes it open. The sound makes him smile and so does the decor; not one of those coffee chains on every corner, this is a real mom and pop place, comfortable chairs and an easy vibe that makes him want to stay for a while. Of course, it also means that he has to actually read the menu above the counter before placing his order, but even that doesn’t seem like too much of a chore - it’s a good menu. 

He’s almost made his mind up when a very familiar laugh distracts him. He knows that laugh, it’s Kristen’s laugh and he turns to say hello, to wonder at what a coincidence it is that they’re both here on a Saturday afternoon. 

But what he sees stops the words in his throat. 

She’s standing at one of the tall tables behind him and she’s got her back to Stuart, but he’s stood behind her enough in the field to know what she looks like from behind. Nor is she alone. She’s with a man, obviously a lover if the way her hands are resting on his chest, the way her head is tilted back to look up at him is any indication. Of course another clue to the fact that they’re either intimately involved or it’s cold outside and the guy has forgotten his gloves is the way his hands are fitted snugly inside the back pockets of Kristen’s jeans. 

But it’s not the PDA from his very by the book partner that makes Stuart’s jaw drop. 

It’s the fact that the hands in question belong to none other than Jubal Valentine. 

He’s so surprised that he doesn’t even realise he’s said Jubal’s name out loud until the other man’s head snaps up and away from Kristen’s face where up until now he’s been staring like she’s the only thing in the room. Jubal’s eyes shoot in Stuart’s direction, his jaw dropping as he realises that yes, Stuart is really standing there. A look that can only be described as “Oh shit,” flits across his face but that’s nothing compared to Kristen’s reaction. She actually jumps, whirling around to dislodge Jubal’s hands from her ass, her eyes widening as they meet Stuart’s. 

To his everlasting surprise, Stuart recovers first. “Well,” he drawls. “This is unexpected.”

Kristen’s hand goes to her chest, fingers finding her necklace, tangling in the links. “Stuart,” she says, looking from him to Jubal and then back again. Then, “This isn’t what it looks like.” 

The second the words leave her lips, she winces, and that’s without Jubal looking down at her, giving her a look like, “Are you kidding me?” It’s such a patently absurd statement that Stuart doesn’t even try to keep the smirk off his face. 

“Sure it is,” he says simply because honestly? He’s mentally running through every exchange between them he’s ever seen, every glance and every comment and it’s suddenly looking like a whole lot less colleagues and friends and a whole lot more old married couple. This explains a _lot_.

“Listen, man...” Jubal clears his throat and Stuart doesn’t miss how his hand reaches out, closes over Kristen’s. It’s either a message of support for Kristen, or defiance in front of Stuart, or maybe a little of both, but Stuart doesn’t give a damn. As long as it involves consenting adults and they’re not hurting anybody, he’s never been interested in what people get up to in their bedrooms and he’s not about to start now. 

“Guys,” he interrupts. “I’m just here because my niece has a ballet recital across the street and I’m running early. A cup of coffee and I’ll leave you to your date.” He nods at the barista, gives her his order, figuring neither Jubal nor Kristen will mind him skipping the queue. “By the way,” he says as he watches the barista pour his coffee, “your secret is safe with me.” 

The look of relief on Kristen’s face is almost comical, whereas Jubal seems to be fighting an embarrassed smile. “Thank you,” Kristen says, her tone matching her expression. She presses herself a little closer against Jubal’s side, letting her head fall against his chest. 

“You’re welcome,” Stuart says, accepting his cup of coffee, making sure the lid is securely fastened. Then, just because he can, he winks at the barista. “Coffee’s on these two,” he tells her and neither of them argue. “See you Monday,” he says, walking past the comfortable chairs, away from the lovely ambience and across the street to the still deserted recital studio. 

He fancies he can feel Jubal and Kristen’s eyes on him the whole way and, boy, wouldn’t he love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. 

*

“This isn’t what it looks like?” 

Jubal’s voice is low and amused and Kristen screws her eyes shut as she turns back to him and buries her face in his chest. “I know,” she moans, not sure if her laughter is amusement or embarrassment or some combination of the two. 

“Seriously?” Jubal is laughing now and she knows he’s never going to let her hear the end of it. Not that she blames him - if the shoe was on the other foot, she’d be doing the same thing. “Of all the things you could have said, that’s what you went with? I thought you were the brains of this partnership.” 

The way that he says things like that so casually never fails to make a shiver run through her. “I was surprised!” she protests, her hands landing on his chest, where they were before she’d turned around to see Stuart staring at them. At the same time, his arms go around her, his fingers tracing lazy paths up and down her back. It doesn’t help her thought processes. 

“Obviously.” Jubal is still grinning and she swats at his chest. 

“It’s your fault,” she tells him and his eyes go exaggeratedly wide with surprise. “You know I can’t concentrate when your hands wander like that...”

His expression changes from surprised to extremely pleased. One might almost say proud. “Oh, is that so?” His hands move lower, not into the back pockets of her jeans again, but lingering around the small of her back. Her traitorous body has trouble distinguishing the difference in its response and she finds herself biting her lip. “Well, why don’t we get out of here and I’ll stop you concentrating some more?” 

Kristen glances towards the door. “But Stuart...”

“Stuart’s good people,” Jubal reminds her. “If he says he’ll keep our secret, he will.” 

His quiet confidence bolsters her own, makes her nod. “Then let’s go.” 

Once home, she doesn’t think of Stuart - or a whole lot else - for the rest of the day.


End file.
